


From Morning Sun Til Dine

by wardo_wedidit



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardo_wedidit/pseuds/wardo_wedidit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry calls Nick at three minutes to midnight on New Year's Eve.  Of course he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Morning Sun Til Dine

**Author's Note:**

> Liberties taken with who was where last night. I don't care; in my mind the clique were all together despite Instagram's obvious evidence to the contrary. Unbeta'd and un-Britpicked, because seriously, it's just 2.somethingk and sappy goddamn fluff. C'mon now.
> 
> What's all this about starting the new year as you mean to go on? You mean I'll be writing Nick and Harry fic all year long? Seems about par for the course. :)

With three minutes to midnight, Nick’s phone vibrates in his pocket. 

He pulls it out with every intention of ignoring the call, because for fuck’s sake, it’s _three minutes to midnight_ and he’s in the middle of a crowd with all his best friends (with one notable exception) to ring it in, not to mention he’s drunk as a skunk at the moment. Whatever it is can wait until 2014, Nick is sure.

But the display reads “Harry :)” just like it always does, because of that one time Harry had stolen his phone and changed it from “FRANKIE FUCKING COCOZZA!!!”, which is how Nick had programmed it in after that one day because it always made him laugh like a madman. The accompanying picture, however, which Harry also added, does make him smile. He’s got his tongue stuck out all silly and his eyes all wide, and he’s doing that stupid shaka sign thing. It’s ridiculous, just like Harry, so it works. Nick swipes to answer. 

“Just like you to call at the very last minute,” Nick greets him, sipping from his champagne glass. “Hiya.”

“Hello! Happy new year!” Harry crows back, loud enough to make Nick wince. He resists because he _knows_ Harry is doing it for that express purpose, because he’s a little shit like that.

“Not yet!” Nick protests, edging away from the crowd to hear a little better. “How’s Holmes Chapel?”

Harry sighs on the other end. “Nice. Bit boring though, now that I’ve been back a while. I miss London. And the boys.” he replies. 

“Oh, the woes of the homeless pop star,” Nick teases, like he hasn’t fiercely felt Harry’s absence every day he’s been gone. But it’s certainly easier to pretend this way. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you leaving me out just then. You better be coming to see me when you get back first thing, since you missed Christmas at the Grimshaw household this year and you must atone. Breaking a two year tradition in the process, mind you.”

“D’you think your dad would have remembered my name this time?” Harry asks, clearly joking right back. 

Nick laughs. “Can’t have everything, Henry Stars.” He hears Harry’s responding laugh in the background and tries not to focus on the way his own heart flutters in his chest at the sound. “What are you doing to ring in the new year? Partying it up?”

“Nope!” Harry answers cheerily. “Just here with Gemma, Mum, and Robin and some other family friend-type people. We can get properly drunk right here at home, thanks.”

Nick hums neutrally in response. There’s something somewhat forced in Harry’s voice, and Nick thinks that maybe Harry was downplaying it just a little when he said he was missing London and his bandmates. There’s a reason he called, Nick thinks, and it wasn’t just to pass on his new year wishes. 

“Well, I’m here with everybody. They all miss you.” Harry is silent at the words, which is how Nick knows he doesn’t believe him. “I’m serious; I think Kelly asked about you a hundred and twelve times. _Everyone_ sends their love.”

“Tell them I send it back,” Harry says, sounding a little happier, and then it’s thirty seconds to midnight and everyone’s counting down, too loud for them to say anything else. 

Harry and Nick are silent on the line, listening to each other breathe. It’s strangely comforting to know that they’re both watching the telly and the tick of the clock, even with all the miles between them. Nick feels a bit choked up with it, almost. 

Then it goes midnight and there’s cheering and kissing, and Nick stands off to the side watching. 2014 is apparently upon them. 

“Happy new year, Hazza,” Nick whispers, barely able to hear himself over all the ruckus. 

“You too, Nicholas,” Harry replies, sounding just as intimate and fond and unexpectedly soft-bellied and _genuine_ that Nick has to change the subject before he falls right into this flash of an instant and has to crawl back out of it later on his scraped and bleeding hands and knees.

"Don't you have girls you could be kissing right now?" Nick asks suddenly, teasing gently and hoping that his genuine feelings don't show through. 

"Nah," Harry replies, just as goodnaturedly as always, but with a little quiver to his voice Nick can't quite parse. Someone in the noisy background whines _"Harryyyyy!"_ and Nick's lips twist into a smile. 

"You _have,_ " he says, smiling distractedly as a few people across the room attempt to open a bottle of champagne, spraying it basically everywhere in the process. They all cheer and laugh and Nick shakes his head fondly at them. 

Harry sighs on the other end. "Alright, I have," he admits. " _But,_ you know what they say about starting the new year off right and all that."

"Yeah, what you do on New Year's you'll end up doing for the rest of the year," Nick finishes without a second thought. 

"Right," Harry agrees, and Nick can hear the smile in his voice. (It’s crazy that he just thought that. He takes another gulp of champagne. He needs to be a lot drunker for this conversation to happen properly.) "So, like, I wanted to call. Since I can't be there and... And I can't start the new year off with a kiss."

It's definitely the alcohol that causes a delay in Nick's brain catching up to what’s going on. His brow furrows and then, " _Oh,_ " he breathes, a stupidly wide smile stretching onto his face immediately. He’s too sloshed to hide it.

Harry doesn't say anything for a moment, but it's quite a _nice_ moment. Nick thinks Harry is probably doing the same thing he is yet again: standing shocked and thrilled and smiling giddy that _this is actually happening._ "Yeah," Harry says again, voice dropped to a murmur. "I wanted this to be the first thing I did in the new year." 

Nick squeezes his free hand into a fist at his side and bites down on his lip to keep from looking like a grinning maniac. " _You,_ " he says fervently, "Better be on the road back to London first thing in the morning, Harry Styles." 

The sound of Harry's laugh is bright and delighted in Nick's ear, absolutely full. "You can count on it, Grimshaw," he replies. 

“I’m serious, Harold,” he says. “Honestly, calling right before the stroke of midnight to do this. You’re turning us into a bloody cliche already!” Something in his throat goes high and wild on the word _us_ and its implications. He will deny it if asked.

He can hear Harry laughing a little recklessly on the other end and something expands in his chest. He swallows, fingers clenching a little tighter around his champagne glass, rocked with a certain gravity at the moment. 

The thing is, _the thing is._ Generally speaking, Nick is not good with his feelings. He’d rather take another bath with mealworms most of the time than talk about how he feels--okay, probably not that because it was the worst thing he’s ever done. But close. And people tend to think it’s because he’s shallow or unemotional, which just isn’t the case. Sometimes he feels things so deeply he’s worried he might _explode_. But it’s so, so hard for him to express. It’s difficult for him to take those thoughts swimming around in his head and spin them into words that he can say to someone without chickening out. Which sucks, a lot of the time, but luckily he has great friends and family who appreciate him for who he is and usually know what he means without having to explain it explicitly. And that’s really lucky, but he also feels like this is one of those times where saying the exact words is really important. 

“Me too, you know,” he gets out, rolling his eyes at himself. “I mean… we’re on the same page about--everything; I feel the same about everything.” Curiously, Nick is abruptly and simultaneously frustrated and pleased with himself, which is a rare combination of emotions. That might not have been the most eloquent thing he’s ever said but he’s had a lot to drink, alright, and at least he managed not to blurt out _I am in love with you, I have been in love with you for a very long time_ on the first go like he expected himself to. Since it’s true and all. 

Harry’s laugh this time is soft and kind, like he understands Nick is trying, and _God,_ Nick just sort of really wishes he could see Harry’s face right now. That would make all of this so much easier. 

“Good,” Harry replies, and his voice sounds so confident and sure that Nick wonders why they waited so long, even though he knows. “I’ll head back to London first thing.”

“You know where my key is. You can just barge right in and wake me up, hangover be damned.”

“I do,” Harry says, sounding quite happy about it and maybe a little smug. “I’ll do it with kisses. You know, starting the new year as you mean to go on and all that.”

Nick jaw drops a little and he can feel himself blushing, and reaches up to cover his ridiculous grin with his hand. Alexa shoots him a questioning look from across the room but Nick just shakes his head at her and turns around. 

“This is such a bad idea,” Nick sort of whines into the phone, because it is. He is so stupid over Harry _already,_ and he knows that situation is only going to get worse now, for obvious reasons. Not to mention that Harry’s like, superstar famous. _Nothing_ about this is going to be easy. 

_“Hey,”_ Harry whines in that way he always does, playful and ridiculously endearing. “It’s not. I’m in love with you.”

Nick feels his breath catch. Jesus Christ… Pixie and Collette and Aimee and Alexa are across the room doing an epically off-key and drunken rendition of “Auld Lang Syne,” and Harry Styles just said he’s in love with Nick over the phone in the first moments of 2014. This is so not how he pictured this moment going. To be honest, he never imagined this moment actually _happening_ at all, so maybe that’s an unfair statement. 

“Harry Styles,” he says, with much more emotion in his voice than he intended. 

There’s some yelling in the background on Harry’s end, and then a scuffle that sounds like his phone is dropped to the ground, and Nick is left on the other side feeling like the air was just knocked out of him. 

He pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it stupidly, mouth agape. His finger is hovering over the button to call back immediately but Alexa’s arm is around him before he has the chance. “Get off the phone, you arse! You’re missing the new year!” she says, plucking it from his fingers. Nick reaches for it, but Alexa is a more perceptive girl than anyone gives her credit for, because she distracts him by giving him another (fuller) glass of champagne, turns his phone off, and sticks it in her pocket.

“We’re getting twatted,” she informs him with that perfectly charming smile of hers. “And it looks like you need it.” The words are followed up with a face that lets Nick know that while she may not know what’s going on right now, she will find out eventually. 

Nick sighs, surrendering to the inevitable, and throws back his drink. 

//

Nick is halfway home before he realizes he’s forgotten to get his phone back from Alexa, and it’s already an ungodly hour and there’s no way he’s going back now. Not to mention the fact that he highly doubts he could get this cabbie to turn around even if he wanted to. So he makes it home and falls into bed fully dressed, Puppy curling up on the other side of the bed, half-expecting to wake up in the morning and find that the whole thing had been a dream. 

So there’s a moment of confusion when he wakes at nine in the morning (too fucking early) with a pounding head to the sounds of someone moving about in his apartment. He rubs blearily at his eyes and is trying to decide whether to get up and check it out or just let the burglar take what they want when none other than Harry Styles enters his bedroom, striding in fast and with sure footing. 

It all comes rushing back to him in two seconds flat, but there’s no time for him to think before Harry is leaning down and gathering Nick’s face in his hands, kissing him breathless. 

Harry’s lips are soft on Nick’s, and he’s kissing carefully like he doesn’t want to ask too much of Nick just after he’s woken up, and Nick smiles into the kiss at the thought and the remembrance of Harry’s promise to kiss him awake from last night. And now he’s doing just that. _Fuck._

Nick scrambles a little to sit up straight, fingers grabbing clumsily at Harry’s t-shirt and pushing off his long wool coat (though he’s ultimately unable to get it off since that would mean Harry letting go of him right now and just, _no_ ). Harry laughs a little against Nick’s lips but Nick’s having none of it, groaning into the kiss and twisting himself closer, completely shameless. For once he does not care that he did not brush his teeth last night, and he does not care that he’s slept in his clothes and rumpled them, and he does not care that his jaw is all stubbly with sleep. 

Harry Styles is finally fucking kissing him. Nothing else matters.

When they’re eventually forced to pull away and breathe, Harry’s lips stretch into a wide smile. “Happy new year,” he whispers, tipping his forehead against Nick’s, so close that Nick can count his eyelashes. (Okay, maybe his thoughts last night weren’t because of champagne. Maybe Nick is truly _that_ crazy about Harry Styles. He is surprisingly okay with that.)

“I love you too,” Nick breathes back, and then Harry is throwing his head back and laughing, absolutely beautiful. Nick pulls him in by his grip on Harry’s shirt for another kiss, and that is that. 

So yeah, 2014 starts off a bit ridiculous. 

But luckily, that’s just what the two of them are good at.


End file.
